


The Prissy Prince

by MelissaMelody



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Court Drama, Edward Elric is Royalty, Eventual rape, F/M, Fantasy AU, Historical AU, Historical Inaccuracy, I'm not kidding this is explicit, Loud Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Orgies, Pettiness, Pining, RoyEd Week 2019, command and control, ed is a whore and he likes it, no asking for consent, prince!Edward, serial sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-08-23 13:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20243839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaMelody/pseuds/MelissaMelody
Summary: He could have anyone he wanted, have them do anything he wanted.But that wasboring.(RoyEd Week 2019 Day 3: Fantasy AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Started well before RoyEd week but being posted in the spirit of it. For Day 3, Fantasy AU. 
> 
> Tags will be expanded as needed.

The Prince looked out over the great hall, eyes lazily drifting over the crowd. He could have anyone he wanted if he looked at them right, and he knew it. Hell, he could have a series of them, one after the other if he wanted. Line up seven courtiers and have them fuck his ass one after the other, whoever told him the best sweet nothings rewarded with making him cum. Open his pants and spread his legs, saying that everyone got two minutes with their mouths on his dick to try to make him come, whoever succeeded getting to visit his bed that night. Just a quick little smirk and any woman in the room would drop her panties and lift her skirts for his fingers.

He could have anyone he wanted, have them do anything he wanted.

But that was  _ boring _ . 

The Prince picked at his dinner, lazily lifting morsels of meat to his lips with his fingers in a way he knew would leave wet spots on clothing and looks of hunger that wouldn’t be satisfied by food. He could count the eyes that were locked on him without looking up. A lazy glance confirmed which ones he’d let fuck him that night. A muscular guard who liked to watch and take his turn last, the ambassador from the neighboring kingdom, three extra children of various dukes who were aching for any recognition and would take it where they could get it, and, hm, perhaps the married couple that very much enjoyed having him in the middle.

“Edward,” the King said, setting his goblet down with a sharp clunk. The Prince looked up at his father, a man who had taught him how to be king and govern and then left him to his own devices. 

“Yes?” the Prince said.

“We have new courtiers coming to the court tomorrow,” the King said. “And I wish for them to not be distracted.”

“For how long?” the Prince asked, leaning back in his chair, already getting annoyed with his father.

“A week, at least,” the King said. “Several treaties and a plan for securing our territories are necessary.”

“With foreign entities?” the Prince asked, picking up his goblet with a languid movement. 

“They know what you are like,” the King said. “Fucking you will be part of the deal.” The King picked his goblet back up and took a sip before looking directly at the Prince. “ _ After _ everything has been signed.”

“You’ll make them all wait so long?” the Prince asked, pausing to drink from his own goblet. 

“I am sure you will give them plenty of encouragement to be quick about it,” the King said. “You never have learned to be quiet.”

“Merely tell me who you’ve finished with so I can fuck them, Father,” the Prince said, his eyes sweeping the great hall over the edge of his goblet. He licked the residue of wine from the rim slowly as he made his decision. He’d leave the married couple to their own bed for the night. Fucking the ripe daughters of power-hungry dukes seemed a better plan to piss off the old man. And maybe one of the power-hungry dukes themselves. 

“Hmph.” The King turned back to his own meal, a waiting kitchen girl refilling his goblet with another serving of condensed wine. The Prince licked the rim of his goblet again, silently promising with his eyes to show two noble daughters just how dextrous his tongue was, and studiously ignoring their fathers, who were much more interested in being the grandfather of the same baby as the King than preserving their daughter’s virtues.

*~*~*

General Roy Mustang leaned back in his saddle, trying to get comfortable again after the long ride. The village he and his retinue had stopped in for dinner told him that is was just two more hours up a decent road to the citadel, and he was in a hurry to get there. He hadn’t spent the last five years of his life conquering new lands in the name of King Hohenheim of Xerxes and gaining his respect just to throw it all away on the possibility of sleeping in.

General Grumman, a mentor to the General riding up to the citadel in the dark, was retiring, finally, and the General wanted his job. He wanted to be in command of the central forces, not just a roving border consignment.

“General,” his second in command said, reigning in her horse next to his.

“Captain,” the General said, nodding to her. 

“I wanted to make sure you remembered the cautions that were sent about the Prince.”

“That he’ll try to get me into his bed and let me fuck him so hard I’ll forget my name?”

“Yes.”

“I remember, Captain,” the General said, turning to stare forward at the citadel walls looming over him. The tops were lit with torches, and the runners they sent ahead at dinnertime had ensured that the gate would be opened for them.

City guards met the General and his retinue at the gates, escorting them through the darkened city streets. The General preferred cities at this time of night, fewer civilians out and about to get in the way. But this was not a city he was conquering by force. He was being welcomed into it with open arms as an honored son of the kingdom. A certain kind of silence blanketed them in the darkness, one that wasn’t true silence, but a silence among the people. The hooves of their horses clattered against the surface of the streets, armor clanked with their movements, the torches even had a slight crackling sound to add as they wound their way closer and closer to the palace at the center of the citadel. The General began to relax, there would be nothing out of the ordinary happening tonight. 

Then every muscle in his body tensed as their silence was rent by an  _ obscene _ and obscenely  _ loud _ moan that reverberated across the open plaza as they entered it.

“What the  _ fuck _ is that?” the General spat.

“The Prince, sir,” one of the city guards said. “The Prince is currently being fucked.”

“And we can hear him in the town square  _ why _ ?”

“He leaves is windows open, sir,” the guard said, shrugging. 

“On purpose?” the General asked.

“Yes, sir. Very much so.”

“And you know this how?”

“I asked when he brought me up to his room to fuck him,” the guard said, shrugging again. “I’d heard him before.”

“If anything, I’d say he’s pissed at the King about something,” another guard piped up. “That doesn’t sound like just the big window, that sounds like  _ all  _ the windows.”

“I haven’t heard that before,” the first guard said.

“The Prince hasn’t done it since the King said he couldn’t go to the border,” the second guard said. “It’s said he told everyone who was interested in fucking him to line up at his door and they could all have a turn, and he kept his windows wide open so there would be no chance the King wouldn’t hear it.”

“Damn. Wonder what the King did this time,” the first guard said.

“Perhaps you should wonder who you are to question your King,” the General said, growling. Both guards shut their mouths and looked away just as another obscene moan echoed through the plaza, the continuous moans getting louder as they worked their way closer and closer to the palace itself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bored prince and a general's introduction to court politics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started well before RoyEd week but being posted in the spirit of it. For Day 6, Historical AU. (shush)
> 
> Tags will be expanded as needed.

The Prince panted a little, reveling in the way the silk cases of his pillows stuck to the skin of his back as he arched. One of the many dukes of the court stood before him with his pants around his ankles and his shirt buttons open. His nicely impressive cock was just starting to go limp after having fucked the Prince’s ass until he blew his load into it. The Prince looked down at himself, completely bare on his bed, with his own cock still hard and aching. 

Levering himself up on his elbows, the Prince looked at the duke in from of him, golden and unwavering eyes looking him up and down slowly.

“You’ll do,” the Prince said, a smirk unfolding across his lips. 

“Do for what, my Prince?” the Duke asked. He was a young one, and while the Prince had fucked him before he hadn’t used him to finish.

“For the end of my night,” the Prince said, laying back amongst his cushions. “Make me cum.”

The Duke hesitated for a moment, his pants rustling as he shifted with uncertainty. “H-How, my Prince?”

“I don’t care,” the Prince said, arching his back to feel the silk sticking to his skin again. “But you’ll clean up any mess you cause.”

The Duke stepped forward, his step shortened by his pants still sitting at his ankles, and reached his hand between the Prince’s legs to grasp his cock. The Prince moaned softly, nothing like the brash encouragements he gave when a dick of good size was thrust into his ass or when teeth sunk into his skin when the mood struck him. It still encouraged the duke all the same, his hand clenching just a bit on the Prince’s cock. 

The Prince stretched his legs out on either side of the Duke’s hips, enjoying the ache at the backs of his knees where the Duke’s hands, and the hands of the four men who had their turns before him, had pressed the Prince open for them. The scars in his left thigh throbbed at the stretch, reminding him that his bone had once pierced the flesh of his thigh and his flesh had not yet forgiven him. The Prince arched up when the Duke squeezed the head of his cock in his palm, his lower back aching from where two of the men who had fucked him had grasped to slam his hips back into theirs. 

The Prince flopped back into his cushions as the Duke began running his hand up and down the length of his cock. The pressure was good, the Duke’s cupped hand grasping all around his shaft, but there was an element missing, something was wrong about his hands. The Prince sighed, turning the sound into a moan to encourage the Duke. He stretched his neck, pressing his head into the cushions and putting his fingers in his mouth. He could still taste one of the women he had fucked that night on his skin, a sour and tangy taste that would cling for hours. The Duke kept stroking up and down his shaft, and the Prince dragged his now spit-soaked fingers over his chin and down his throat, reveling in how it dried and cracked on his skin as he stretched. He turned his head to the left, reaching for a far pillow with his right hand, feeling resistance in his shoulder against the once broken bones and knots of scar tissue that ringed around his arm. 

The Duke in front of him took the Prince’s movements as encouragement, moving his hand faster and shifting his hips to press his hardening cock against the Prince’s thigh. The Prince looked up, eyes sharp.

“Wasn’t that enough for you?” the Prince asked, pressing back against the Duke with his leg.

“In the moment, it was, my Prince,” the Duke said, panting in time with his hand.

The Prince tilted his head to the side, glancing from the Duke’s face to his dick and back again. He smiled and arched back into his cushions again, dragging his fingers through his hair until they caught in the tangles at the back of his neck. “You’ll clean up any mess you cause,” the Prince said, hooking his foot around the Duke’s waist to press his dick harder into his thigh.

The Duke leaned in, bracing himself over the Prince with his free hand. “I-I can cum on you?” he asked, his panting obvious and desperate. The Prince huffed and tightened his fingers in his hair, feeling as the knots slipping around his knuckles pulled at different parts of his scalp.

“Me first,” the Prince said, his voice low and sultry. “I cum first. If you cum before me, it will be a long time before I’ll let you fuck me again, and that would just be a shame with a dick like yours.” The Prince narrowed his eyes, watching the Duke flush and pant even harder. “So make me cum, then cum on me, and then clean it off of me.”

The Duke swallowed, his panting keeping him from closing his mouth. He started moving his hand up and down the Prince’s dick faster, his thumb catching and pulling on the head with each stroke. The Prince turned his face away and frowned. He didn’t like that.

“Tighter,” he said, pressing his thigh into the Duke’s cock again. The Duke complied, tightening his grip. It no longer slid as well, but his thumb stopped catching, and something else felt better about it. The Prince moaned, pulling his fingers tighter again, looping his hair around them to get a better grip. The Duke gasped and started working his dick harder and faster again. Too hard.

“I-I’m sorry, my Prince,” the Duke gasped all of a sudden. The Prince looked up, lightening his grip on his hair to see the Duke drop his cock and grab his own, yanking hard twice before coming all over the Prince. The Prince pulled his hands out of his hair, pushing himself up to a sitting position while glaring at the Duke that had sunk to the floor in the throes of his orgasm.

“What a shame,” the Prince said, pushing himself forward to the edge of the bed and glaring down at the Duke. “You’ll still make me come now, and you’ll still clean me.”

The Duke nodded, eyes dropping to the Prince’s cock. “I’m so sorry, my Prince.”

“Your tongue can be used for better things that useless apologies,” the Prince said. The Duke obediently moved forward, taking the Prince’s cock into his mouth and beginning to suck it. The Prince looked away, meeting his own eyes in a mirror against the opposite wall. He lifted his hand and traced the outline of a hickey one of the women had left behind, a gentle purple under his skin surrounded by an angry red from her teeth.

“Deeper,” the Prince said, tracing the outline of the hickey. The Duke took him deeper and the Prince closed his eyes, pressing his fingers against the hickey. His other hand found his hair again, sliding along his scalp and dragging a full handful with it. He began tugging and pressing in time with the Duke’s bobbing, arching his back to feel the Duke’s illicit cum drying on his stomach. He let the sensations build, the silk under him growing damp from the cum leaking from his ass, the pain blooming from the hickey and his hair, the wet warmth and pressure of the Duke’s mouth.

When he got close, the Prince abandoned his hickey and hair in favor of pressing the Duke’s head where he wanted it, fucking into the lesser noble’s mouth with controlled desperation, looking for just the right angle, just the right pressure, just the right brush of teeth and tongue and throat--

The Prince pulled his dick from the Duke’s mouth, dribbling his come down the Duke’s chin and letting it pool on the floor. The Duke gasped, leaning forward with more of the Prince’s cum dripping out of his mouth as he caught his breath.

“Now clean it up,” the Prince said, leaning back on his hands and watching the Duke with narrowed eyes. The duke nodded, still panting and still leaning forward. The Prince waited for him to move, his patience running out quickly. 

“Are you waiting for something?” the Prince asked, his voice cold.

“N-No, my Prince,” the Duke said.

“Then why haven’t you started to clean me?” the Prince asked.

The Duke lunged forward, attacking the remnants of his cum on the Prince’s stomach with his mouth. The Prince yelped and kicked him back, sending him sprawling back on the floor and putting his hardened cock on display again. 

The Prince scoffed, standing up from his bed. “Does it really take you so little to get aroused? You must hardly need anything at all to get off,” the Prince stepped over the Duke and walked to the door to the antechamber. “And it is no wonder that you’re a crap duke. Your blood doesn’t live anywhere but your dick.”

“M-My Prince, I am sorry,” the Duke called out, scrambling to follow him. The Prince turned to watch the Duke trip over his own pants, sniffing in disapproval again. 

“Get out,” he said, throwing open the door. Several of his fucks of the night were still recovering on his couches, and most of them stood at his reappearance. 

“But, but my Pri-,”

“ _ Get out, _ ” the Prince hissed. The Duke jumped, fishing up his pants by the waistband and scurrying out the door into the main hall. The others watched him go before turning back to the Prince.

“I need to be cleaned,” the Prince said, turning sharply in the doorway, “And I want a bath.” He smirked as he heard multiple pairs of feet scurrying to follow him into his bedroom, and one voice calling for water to be brought.

~*~*~

“You have got to stop dragging an old man like me out of my bed at such unholy hours,” Grumman said, meeting the General and his retinue in the courtyard of the palace.

“I did not request your presence at such an ‘unholy hour’, as you put it, General,” the General said, smiling at his old mentor as he passed the reins of his stallion to a stableboy.

“No, no you did not,” Grumman laughed. “The King did.”

The General stopped, turning sharply from unbuckling his saddlebags to stare at Grumman. “The King asked you to meet me?”

“The King asked me to escort you up to him tonight,” Grumman said. 

“Why?” the General asked.

Grumman shrugged. “I didn’t ask. Might have something to do with how pissed the Prince is right now.”

“Hm,” the General said, glancing over the two city guards from earlier. “And what is he pissed about?”

“The King told him to not even try to invite you and the other diplomats and bureaucrats arriving in the next few days to his bed until what they have come to address has been finished,” Grumman said. “It’ll be fun tomorrow when the Ambassador from Creta gets here. He’s just carrying the completed treaty and will be disappointed for a while.”

“Why?” the General asked, freeing his saddlebags and throwing them over his shoulder. He nodded to the Captain, letting her take command to get the rest of the retinue into their beds. “If I recall correctly, the road between the citadel and Creta is particularly nasty this time of year.”

“It is,” Grumman said, turning to amble through the doors into the palace. “And he was promised an apt reward for making the journey.”

“Which is?” the General asked.

“The Prince with his legs spread,” Grumman said. The General’s steps faltered for a moment before snapping into a perfect march. “Pity the Prince has been brought to the point of only being seen for what he can do on a bed.”

“What do you mean?” the General asked. “That’s all I’ve ever heard the Prince doing.”

“How quickly people forget things,” Grumman said. “Come on now.”

With agility that betrayed his years Grumman picked up his pace and hummed as he left the General trailing in his wake. The General raced after him, trying to keep pace. 

“Forget what, General?” the General said, matching the old man’s pace.

“Oop! Your room’s here,” Grumman said, smiling too widely in a way the General knew meant he wouldn’t be getting any of his questions answered. “Drop your bag, put on a fresh shirt, and do something about your hair.”

The General sighed and turned to the door Grumman had presented to him, opening it and stopping abruptly.

“Yes, the King wants you in fine rooms with a decent amount of seclusion, my boy,” Grumman said. “He seems to think there will be an issue with the Prince.”

“There will be no issue with the Prince,” the General said, dumping his bag on the bed and opening it to rummage for a clean shirt, pulling one out and starting with the buttons on his coat.

“There will be if you continue to be fine with changing your clothes with the door wide open,” Grumman said. He returned to his humming while he stood outside the door, almost looking like he was guarding the General’s door while he changed. 

Within ten minutes of arriving at the castle General Roy Mustang was presentable to his King, with a fresh shirt on underneath his jacket, medals pinned to his lapels, and hair slicked back from his face after he had dunked his head in a basin. He followed Grumman, who had laughed sadly when the General exited his room, through the halls of the palace and up several flights of stairs, each area growing slowly more stately as they went.

“General Roy Mustang to see His Majesty,” Grumman said to one of the guards that stood in front of a pair of ornately carved wooden doors. The guard nodded and opened the door to inform the King, giving the General a glimpse into a dimly lit study. The other guard kept eyeing the General, gaze sweeping his entire height. 

“Are you finished?” the General asked coldly, pinning that guard with his gaze.

“Yes, sir,” the Guard said, averting his eyes.

“You may enter now, Generals,” the first guard said, stepping back into the hall. Grumman led the way, and the Generals went to meet their King.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deception and a meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started well before RoyEd week but being posted in the spirit of it. For Day 7, Free/Catch Up.
> 
> Tags will be expanded as needed.

The Prince had sweetly kissed everyone who had come to tend him in the bath, taking a little longer with the daughter of a duke who had taken the time to gently untangle his hair and comb it through until it shone and ran through his fingers like water. With a smile he saw them out of his rooms before returning to his bedroom, going around to close the windows.

At the last window, the Prince looked down to see the stableboys tending to a small group of horses in the courtyard. The Prince considered the small herd. It looked large enough to be an escort for a general, and the standard on the horses was from one of the border contingents. 

“He had a border general come at  _ night,  _ that fucking ass!” the Prince growled. He slammed his window shut and looked around at his room. Plenty of proper day suits filled in his wardrobe, but it was the middle of the night, and for that general’s horses to still be being tended to he had to have only just gotten there.

And he couldn’t have just gotten there without hearing the Prince’s moans. 

The Prince smiled and walked to his wardrobe, knowing exactly what it was he wanted to pluck out. A silk shirt deliberately too big and deliberately undone, a pair of pants tailored to cup around his ass and dick, and a robe draped over his shoulders to give his father the excuse of merely wandering around in the middle of the night. He left his hair loose and draping around his shoulders, now determined that the lady who had taken such care with his hair would have the fuck of her life the next night.

The Prince quietly left his rooms and ghosted through the halls, his only stealth being quiet as he walked down the middle of each hall, feigning disinterest but keeping an eye out for where exactly his father was hiding this visiting general.

The Prince turned into the wing that held most of his father's rooms, glancing at the door that used to belong to his mother for only a moment before doing his best to glide down the hall. Two guards posted at the door of his father's study. A border general important enough for the king to have stayed up late instead of insulating himself in a room where he could try to ignore the Prince's moans? 

The Prince smiled and regarded the two guards as he approached. He'd had them both before, and he was sure one would let him through with just a promise of something he liked.

“Is my father in?” the Prince purred, stopping in front of the guard he thought he would have an easier time with. He had let his robe and shirt slide off as he approached, exposing almost the entirety of his left arm and a large portion of his chest.

“Yes, my Prince,” the guard said, his eyes obviously drifting. The Prince let him look. He wanted the man distracted, not attentive to him. He was not expecting the other guard to hit his in the leg with the terrible decorative spears they held.

“The promise of a King is better than the promise of a Prince, Sam,” the other guard said, steadfastedly staring straight ahead.

“The King promised something better than an excellent fuck?” the Prince asked, stepping over to the other guard and caressing his jaw, trying to coax him into meeting his gaze. The guard would not let his face be turned, and the Prince frowned. 

“You promise nights and moments, my Prince,” the second guard said, still staring directly ahead. “The King has promised something more lasting.”

“What, a wife?” the Prince asked.

“Yes, my Prince,” the second guard said, swallowing and shifting as he tries to ignore the Prince pressing up against him, fingers still tracing his jaw and thumb brushing his lips. “A noble one. With a title.”

The Prince stepped back. “And what must the two of you do to be rewarded with a minor title away from everything and the fourth daughter of a minor duke?” he asked, voice cold. Promises and sex were good for opening doors, but not necessarily for keeping them open after he had found the need to open others. 

“We don't let you in,” the first guard said, his face turned to the Prince with undisguised lust that didn't need the tenting in his trousers to be obvious.

The Prince narrowed his eyes and stepped back from the two guards, hitching his shirt and robe back onto his shoulder. He leaned against the far wall, watching the door.

“My Prince? What are you doing?” the second guard asked.

“Waiting,” the Prince responded, his gaze at the door unwavering.

The two guards became uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. The Prince knew he didn't usually stay still or quiet. Nobody expected him to, so why would he bother? And it wasn't like anyone would believe these two guards without anyone else backing them up to say that the Prince could be still for a reason other than being asleep or fucked through. 

The silence around them deepened, the uncomfortable confusion the guards were emanating buffeting against the Prince. He waited, and waited, until the thick carved doors to his father's study creaked open.

“I do expect you to be able to resist certain temptations,” the King’s voice floated from inside the study.

“Of course, your Majesty.” 

The Prince's eyes sharpened again. An unfamiliar voice.

“I have met few people as capable of resisting temptation as General Mustang, sire.” Old Grumman's voice. What was he doing up at this hour?

“Then I will take your endorsement as an acceptance of responsibility, General Grumman,” the King said.

“Yes, sire.” The doors opened fully, revealing General Grumman and a younger man, although perhaps not young still but young enough that a midnight meeting with the King would be unexpected to say the least, who could only have been General Mustang. The Prince looked him up and down once before licking his lips and grinning widely. A military prodigy, perfectly buttoned up with slicked hair at this hour?

“Ah, Prince Edward,” Grumman said.

“Mm,” the Prince said, sliding off the wall in such a way that his shirt and robe were pulled off his shoulder, leaving the great expanse of skin exposed again. The new General glanced down, his eyes lingering in a way that made the Prince preen. “I’m almost insulted a new general came to the palace without being introduced to me.”

“That may be intentional,” the King said, appearing in the door. His own glance at the Prince’s clothing was more derisive. “Especially as I have told you not to seduce anyone.”

“How am I to know who I am not allowed to seduce if I haven’t met them?” the Prince asked, placing his hands on his hips to expose even more. The King sighed and averted his eyes, and Grumman, who had always been immune somehow, bit back a snigger. There was a strangled noise from the first guard, the one that the Prince had properly caught in his net. The General in front of him looked down again, his gaze touching the top edge of the Prince’s navel before he lifted his gaze to meet the Prince’s eyes.

“You have met me now, Prince,” the General said, his voice smooth and unrankled. The Prince didn’t let his expression show his displeasure at the display of composure. “So surely now you will be able to avoid me?”

The Prince stepped forward, invading the General’s space. He didn’t flinch. “Now, who in the world would want to avoid you?”

“Insolent princes disobeying their fathers, I am sure,” the General said. 

The Prince smiled. “Then until it is no longer disobedient, General Mustang.”

The Prince turned and stalked down the hall towards his own rooms. If the General was going to make it difficult so be it.

The difficulty just made it all the more fun.

*~*~*

The General closed the door to his room softly, listening to the well-oiled latch click into place. Grumman hadn’t said anything of any sort of importance while walking the General back through the palace aside from where the General could be expected to find his men in the morning.

With a sigh, the General leaned against the door to his room. He let the army trained tenseness in his shoulders bleed away, slumping against the door and finally letting his thoughts wander.

And wander they did. To the one place he couldn’t let them.

The General cursed and walked across the room to the basin he had dunked his head in earlier. The water had been warm then, but now it was ice cold. He splashed it onto his face, desperately trying to ignore the heat in his groin. The King expected him to be better than the guard who had looked him up and down, the one that obviously lusted after the Prince. 

Of course, who wouldn’t lust after a man like that? Royal blood suited the Prince well, his face not one easily forgotten or ignored. Hair that looked like cascading gold over his shoulders, framing the way his clothes were falling off. His chest had been smooth flat planes of toned muscle, and there had been strength in the exposed arm. The Prince had also known exactly what he was doing, the look in his eyes-

The General splashed water on his face again. The cold was enough to shock his thoughts away, but not enough to do much about the aching erection the thoughts had given him. The Prince was gorgeous, but he was also much more than gorgeous. 

The General groaned as he opened his pants, fingers brushing over his dick. It had been a long deployment, stuck with the same people day in and day out, smelling them as they got worse and worse, and hearing them when they thought it late enough. 

None of them compared to the Prince’s sounds. That moaning he had heard coming in, what it would be to cause that himself. Or even better, forbid it and watch that Prince squirm with want and held in moans. 

The General sat on the edge of his bed, his hands loose on his dick. It had been far too long and everything was just too sensitive, especially for a hand covered in calluses from months of working reins and weapons.

Even still, with the distracting and mood killing touches it didn’t take much at all for the General to be huffing like a teenager. Just a memory of the Prince, his exposed skin, his knowing grin, the look in his eyes-

The General rocked in time with his orgasm, letting his cum splatter on the floor. He cracked his eyes open and glanced down at it. It had been a  _ very _ long time, gauging by the size of his load. He would be ashamed of cumming all over the floor, but he doubted it was the worst the palace had seen, not with the Prince walking around already half-undressed and looking ripe to be fucked.

“Fuck,” the General said, standing up to push his pants the rest of the way off, followed by his jacket and shirt, tossed with just enough care to not end up in a puddle of cum. He then turned and collapsed into the bed, letting the sheets scratch against his skin.

This would be a very long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: chapter 4 will contain a rape scene that is graphic. Should this be traumatic to you, there will be a summary of the effects of the chapter at the end of it. Please don't read something you're not comfortable with. The rest of the fic will include fallout from the rape.


End file.
